This is how we breathe
by jennygiraffadil
Summary: Remus doesn't understand why Sirius loves him so he tries to find out. And maybe falls in love right back on the way.


**Title:** This is how we breathe why?  
**Pairing:** Remus/Sirius.  
**Disclaimer: **I wish.  
**Summary:** Remus doesn't understand why Sirius loves him so he tries to find out. And maybe falls in love right back on the way.  
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"_I love you_." Sirius had whispered, just off key behind his ear, and he froze. They'd both looked down then to watch the moonlight threading through the carpet before padding off to bed. And he hadn't been able to forget it since.

Sirius, it seemed, had shrugged it off when the only reply he got was a vacant stare and awkward fingers twisting in pyjama jackets. But it was okay - Remus noted, idly, the lack of shoulders knocking together, or thighs pushed up close on the couch after dark; but, for the most part things went back to normal. And he was fine with that.

It was always there though, in the back of his mind; pushing. The way Sirius's heels would catch the top step of the stairs as he edged his way to breakfast. The way his hands folded together under the potions table. The exact angle the light caught his jaw when he threw his head back to laugh - and the thin sting of whiplash as his hair ricoched back.

He never mentioned it out loud, he never said a word, but Remus's breath still hitched when he mispronounced the last syllable of charms, or stormed in with James after Quidditch in the rain. He would sometimes stare then, over the top of a book, hypnotised by the way water would pool after Sirius as trudged up to the dorm to change.

_Why_, that's what had started it, _why_. The whole stupid obsession he'd caught himself stuck in, spurred by one little word. And he wasn't even insecure. He hadn't been bothered, or necessarily struck off-guard. Just why.

"The way your nose wrinkles up when you eat." Peter had nodded. 

"How you slip little notes inside your books so you can remember what's happened." James had said.

It was driving him mad. Or, rather, he was letting it drive him mad. He'd spent the whole Saturday in bed, first, trying to get his head around it and all he could think was why. And it began. Sitting behind Sirius in class, analysing him, brushing past him on the way to the showers; drawing up his entire family tree on the back of his transfiguration essay to try and find some link that would explain it all away. But the only place it all lead him, eventually, was the corner of a chair in the common room. Curled up into himself trying to lull the pounding of his heart between his ears.

"I don't know why."

And then Sirius was standing behind him.

"I don't know what it is that made me fall in love with you" Remus arched his neck to the sight of Sirius shuffling from foot to foot, a man trying to grow from a boy who wasn't ready, he thought, and almost smiled.

"Maybe," Sirius gestured, clashing his teeth together to the rhythm of the clock in the background, "Maybe you're just the furthest away from them I could get. You're just so - so imperfect. And messed up. And beautifully okay with it."

They both stilled.

"Excuse me?" Remus hissed, rather abashed, and pushed his shoulders around so he could look him in the eyes, "Did you just say you love me because I'm the _worst possible person you could_?"

The fire sparked his temper then and he could feel his pulse racing - just below the surface, right where it belonged. It wasn't right. After spending weeks trying to get past it, and, ultimately, almost falling in love with Sirius right back, he wasn't going to let some shoddy excuse like that get the better of him. But the way Sirius's knuckles brushed the back of the thick red velvet made him shudder. And his eyes started to sting with frustration.

"_No!_" Sirius spluttered, taking a step back and pacing a little awkwardly by the window, "I mean - yes. But --" he took a deep breath and Remus couldn't help but both love and hate the way his fingers tucked through his hair.

"You have scars," he started, and Remus arched a brow, "You have freckles in all the wrong places. You're emotional. And you get worked up over every little thing."

"_Is this supposed to be convincing me?_"

He bit his lip.

"You hide it all. You make stupid lists to try and make sense of your head and then spend days wrapped up in yourself when they don't make a difference. You ignore me, you ignore us all, hours at a time."

"Because it's _easier_." he hissed and Remus visibly paled.

He threw himself onto the arm of the chair then and braced a hand overtop.

"You're _so_ -" Sirius grasped, and his voice almost caught, "So wonderfully _human_. And you're not afraid to show it. You're not like _them_ at all." he smiled, "Not like me."

"But - I mean --" and Remus felt his chest tighten and his words blur into a stammer, "I--I think -- we --"

And he really just wanted to run his tongue along the thread of veins under Sirius's jaw as he threw his head back.

"_Did I mention you're so incredibly incapable in social situations?_" he added with a grin.

Remus wished he was still angry when Sirius leaned in. Maybe then he would have hit him with a cushion instead of kissing him.

"_I love you_." Sirius whispered again when their lips parted.

"I know." Remus said, nodding, "_I know_."


End file.
